


What Happens In Vegas...

by Brenda



Category: Entourage
Genre: Gen, M/M, Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not quite like waking up gay for your best friend, but it's pretty goddamn close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens In Vegas...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Giddygeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giddygeek/gifts).



  
"So, I heard you and Vinny had quite the good time in Vegas..."

At Turtle's gleeful cackle, Eric set down the coffee pot with a heartfelt groan. "Oh, Jesus, how?" he asked, rubbing his face with his hand as he turned to lean against the kitchen counter. If that cocksucker Vince had blabbed – to Turtle, of all people – Eric was going to kill him, meal ticket and best friend, or no.

Turtle's wide, dimpled grin made him look twelve. Eric was not nearly awake enough for this shit. "TMZ, baby. Drama and I heard Kevin and Bean talking about it this morning on KROQ."

TMfuckingZ. Just great. "Jesus fucking..."

Johnny turned from the stove, waving his spatula like he was a professor teaching a class. "Hey, there's no shame in being gay. People are a lot more accepting since 'Brokeback.' Plus, y'know, that Jake Gyllenhaal, he's some actor. Built, too."

Turtle rolled his eyes and threw a piece of toast at Johnny. It bounced harmlessly off of the refrigerator. "Great, now we've got Jake Gyllenhaal and his pecs to thank for the fact that Vince and Eric just got Lanced all over the web."

"Lanced?" Maybe Eric really wasn't awake. Maybe this was a bad dream where people didn't speak English. "Turtle, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Turtle shrugged. "You know, like that fag from N'Sync."

"Which one?"

"Good point. Nice to see you still have _some_ sense of humor about this."

"There is no _this_ , Turtle, okay. Nobody's gay, nobody's coming out in 'People' holding hands, nothing happened."

Turtle and Johnny exchanged a look – the kind of look that never boded well for Eric. "Yeah, except for the bit where you were naked and spooning Vince," Turtle said. Johnny nodded, like he was Turtle's personal bobblehead.

Eric decided what he really needed was more coffee. "I was drunk. It was Vegas."

"Dude, I've been _wasted_ in Vegas, and I've never woken up naked with my dick pressed against some guy's ass," Turtle stated.

"Actually, it was Vince's dick pressed against my ass."

"That's my bro," Johnny nodded as he scooped out enough scrambled eggs to feed a small army. "Even gay, he's still the stud."

"Say another word, Drama, and I'll kick your ass back to New York."

"Chill, E. Don't go all psycho on the guy just 'cause you and Vince were too busy channeling your inner loveshack to lock your door."

Eric pushed himself from the counter with a shake of his head. "You know what, I'm done. I can't have a conversation with you two."

"Yeah, you need to hightail it over to Sloane's anyway to explain how naked with your best friend's dick against your ass doesn't equal gay," Turtle laughed, the sound muffled as he took a huge bite of eggs.

"Oh, hey, E, if you're batting for the other side now, you mind if I make my move on Sloane?"

Okay, now he really was having a nightmare. "Johnny, what are you, retarded?"

"Just a thought," Johnny shrugged.

Turtle cuffed him affectionately across the back of the head. "With you, that's a scary thing."

***

Eric learned early on that gossipmongers in L.A. were a lot like gossipmongers back in high school. Everyone just dressed better and drove nicer cars.

When his cell phone rang, he was in the middle of turning left onto Beverly, so he flipped it open without bothering to check the caller ID.

"So, what's this I hear about you ridin' bitch on Vinny's cock over the weekend?"

Eric sighed. If Ari fucked his wife like he started conversations, it was a wonder he was still married. "Jesus Christ, Ari, is there anything you haven't heard?"

"Not where my favorite client is concerned, no. Ears everywhere, E, ears everywhere. I'm better connected than Santa."

"Uh huh."

"So, how was it? Did our boy make you scream like a girl?"

Eric rolled his eyes, even though he knew Ari couldn't see him. "Fuck you."

"Oh, baby, I would, but I don't go after my clients' sloppy seconds." Ari took a moment to laugh at his own joke. "Although, if you were looking to lay low, we could meet up for a game of racquetball. I'll even wear tight shorts so you can stare at my ass, bet you'd love that, too, wouldn't you, you perverted bastard."

"In your dreams, Ari. Uh, wait, why do I need to lay low?"

"Because 'Life & Style' just picked up the story off of TMZ. It's not only all over the internet, but now it'll be in the prints."

"So, isn't brainstorming how to deal with that Shauna's job?"

"Which is why you want to lay low, pizza boy. C'mon, use your brains. You don't want to be within ten miles of her right now, trust me."

"Too late."

"Come again?"

Eric waved weakly out the window. In the parking spot next to him, Shauna gave him the finger. "She just pulled up beside me."

Ari's laugh sounded like a funeral dirge. "It was nice knowing you, Eric."

***

Shauna was one scary bitch even in the best of times. Add in the fact that she was pregnant, and Eric thought even war gods would have stayed out of her way.

"You fucking cocksucker." Her voice was clipped, cold, and the nail digging into his chest was painted bright red. "How could you?"

Eric didn't even try to take a step back. So what if everyone in Coffee Bean could hear her, man, it was better than her getting even more pissed. "How could _I_? What the fuck, Shauna, I didn't do anything!"

"Except crawl naked into your best friend's bed." She took a step towards the counter, then whirled back around. "Who happens to be the star of the summer's biggest film."

"Oh, for –"

"Into _Aquaman's_ bed, Eric." She spat his name out like a curse. "He's on lunchboxes and PSP games. He does not need to become the next gay role model and start hitting on Lance Armstrong."

Was everyone on crack in this town, or was it just him? "Wait, Lance Armstrong is gay?"

"Shut up." She poked him again. "I really do not give a fuck about your twisted bromance with Vinny. Whatever gets you off – and if you open your mouth, I will shove my heel up your dick – but, Jesus _Christ_ , keep it off the internet and out of the papers."

"Can I speak now?"

She waved her hand like a queen granting an audience. "Fine."

"Shauna, I didn't even know _how_ it got in the papers. Or on the internet."

"Two words for you, retard," she replied, and cuffed him across the back of the head. "Room. Service."

Room service? Fucking _room service_? "The _maid_ saw us? Are you kidding me?"

"Comes in to change the sheets, see you and Vince snuggling, goes right back out the door to her cell and, within one hour, she's a grand richer and we're all fucked."

"Really, only a grand?"

"Her cell phone doesn't have a camera, so no pics. For which you should be thankful, dumbass."

"Right. Right." And he was. Very thankful. Living through it once had been bad enough. "So, uh, how do we spin this?"

" _We_ do not spin anything. _You_ are going to let _me_ do _my_ job. I suggest you do yours and go take Vince out somewhere to distract him from this until it blows over. Preferably not in WeHo. Preferably with a lot of hot girls," she added, and really, he was only human.

"So, the Abbey is out...I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

***

"If this is a date, E, we should at least be holding hands."

Everyone was a smartass today. Eric just kept his eyes on the road. "Shut up, Vince, before I kick you ass out of the car."

Vince twisted in his seat so he was facing Eric. "Oh, come on, this is funny. Like it matters."

"It does matter, alright."

"No, it doesn't." Vince waved his hands in some vaguely cool, Vince-like way. "Vin Diesel's gay, and he still gets plenty of action roles."

"Yeah, but he's – Vin Diesel?" Eric glanced over at Vince in disbelief. "Really?" Was everyone in Hollywood gay?

"You didn't know?"

"The answer to that would be no."

"Huh. Anyway, dude, nobody even cares."

"I care, Vince," Eric muttered, knowing perfectly well that Vince could hear him. Kirsten had been right – he really was a passive-aggressive bitch when it came to Vince.

"Why?"

"Because it's not true."

"That we're gay or that we slept naked together? Because we are both definitely guilty of the second."

"Look, this isn't –"

Vince's sigh was long-suffering. "Pull over."

"What?"

"Just do it."

The second Eric stopped the car, Vince was out of his seatbelt and across the seat. His face loomed closer and closer, then his lips were crushing Eric's in a thorough, hard kiss.

It lasted for all of five seconds.

"JESUS CHRIST, Vince, what the fuck was that?" Eric yelped, pushing at Vince's chest and scrubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.

Vince leaned back, self-satisfied smirk firmly in place. "You wanna fuck me?"

"No, I do not want to fuck you, I want to go wash my mouth out!" He had stubble burn. On his lips. Jesus.

"Then relax," Vince shrugged. "You're not gay."

"Are you..." Eric just shook his head. "Well, y'know, maybe I am and you're just not my type."

"E, c'mon, I'm everyone's type."

When the man had a point... "Alright, so I'm not gay."

"You really felt nothing?"

"No, why, did you?"

There was nothing except utter silence from Vince's side of the car.

"Oh, fuck, you did." Eric groaned and beat his forehead against the steering wheel. He saw his entire life – and future – flash before his eyes in a rainbow-colored burst. "Oh _fuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Damn, I am a _really_ good actor."

When Eric sat up, eyes narrowed, Vince's grin could have lit half of Los Angeles. "You _fuck_!"

"Yeah, but I totally had you," Vince laughed, eyes flashing with mirth.

"Yeah, well, payback's going to be a bitch. _Bitch_."

"Bring it." Vince's pause was perfectly timed. "Ballsucker."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Giddygeek for Yuletide 2006.


End file.
